Lies
by Wine Dark Sea
Summary: The fall of Troy, as told by Odysseus' cousin Sinon. R&R! COMPLETE! Yay!
1. Prelude

**Ok, may be a bit strange, but I like it. Until I can upload the story I was originally going to put up, you'll have to put up with this. Wrote it in Wales and was feeling strangely inspired. And, quelle surprise, I don't own any of the characters or the story line. See Homer and Virgil. They do. Oh, and Sophocles, too.**

**Lies**

Almost a month spent building the damned thing, a fortnight preparing myself, and now I'm ready for it – ready to lie my way into a city and, hopefully, bring about its destruction. What can I say? About time. We've been here for ten years, the worst ten years of every man's life, and what for? For a woman I've never actually met, only heard tell of, and to fill Agamemnon's coffers so that they overflow. Men from all over Greece have died, as have the Trojans and their allies. Don't get me wrong – I hate them as much as the next man, but it's still a waste. Hades and Thanatos are the only ones who have done well out of this carnage – the Underworld must be full to bursting point. And to think I could have stayed at home...but then my cousin was forced to come, the least I could do was keep him company.

This last year he's been nothing short of intolerable, but then he's had a lot on his mind. On more than one occasion the 'king of kings' has come close to losing total control and only Odysseus was able to prevent the men from forgetting all loyalty and sailing home, no matter how tempted he was to join them. And then there was the incident with Achilles. Now, I know that most men from the mainland think that Ithacans are somewhat crude, and it's not uncommon for Odysseus to use language that most kings and princes would never dream of using before their men. However, it is uncommon for him to use it while speaking to the High King of Mycenae. Very uncommon, but also rather amusing. This is Odysseus we're talking about – the last time he lost his temper was when Palamedes revealed that his 'madness' was completely staged. He wasn't best pleased when I laughed at him about it, either.

"It is not a laughing matter, Sinon," he'd snapped. "I mean, it's his own fault – if he'd just given the girl back and not asked for any more...and he expects _me_ to try and clear it up. Me and Nestor and Ajax. Ajax was characteristically blunt and – how can I put it without insulting him? – slow; Nestor went on about Tydeus and the like for Zeus knows how long and Achilles is as stubborn as a mule anyway."

Fortunately there were the night-time 'expeditions' to discover what the Trojans were planning, and they were usually with Diomedes, about the only other king my cousin can actually stand, otherwise I would never have heard the end of his complaints. In fact, at the end of one particularly successful raid, he came back with about a dozen white horses and a grin on his face. He was so delighted that he was almost – Zeus protect us – nice to me. Diomedes had laughed.

"Be careful, or people will start to think you actually get on with each other." Diomedes was, until a short while ago, the only king who understood that Odysseus and I were far to similar to hate each other, but my cousin got it into his head that it would be prudent to let the rest of the kings think that we did.

What can only be described as 'the straw that broke the pack-mule's back' came not long after the death of Achilles. It was decided that his armour, supposedly made in the forges of Hephaestus by the smith-god himself, should be awarded to the bravest man among the Greeks. Now, as Ajax brought Achilles' body back to our camp and Odysseus made it possible for this to be done – he and his Ithacans, although not a particularly imposing force, had rushed at the Trojans, inspiring others to do the same – they were the obvious choices. As it was decided that a competition of arms would be unfair, it was decided that each of these warriors should make a speech to convince the other kings that the armour should be theirs. I wasn't actually there, but a battle of words would be no fairer than one of arms. As my cousin has stated on many occasions, Ajax is hardly the brightest flame in the fire. Odysseus, on the other hand, could convince an ant it was a grasshopper if he really wanted. Ajax didn't take defeat too well. In fact, he took it so badly that he lost his wits and took a sword to the animals, thinking that he was murdering Odysseus, Agamemnon and Menelaus in their sleep. When he realised what he had done, Ajax committed suicide. Seeing Odysseus remorseful is a very rare occurrence, but through this last deed of Ajax, he did not just earn the hate of Ajax's men and his half-brother Teucer, but he also blamed himself and became more miserable than before. Since then he's done everything he can to bring about the destruction of Troy – went to get Achilles' son, Neoptolemus, brought Philoctetes back from Lemnos and made sure he was cured of the snake bite he was left there for in the first place (but nearly got shot several times in the process), stole the Palladium from the temple of Athena in Troy itself, and now this. A hollow wooden horse.

"This," he had announced in a council of kings, after revealing exactly what he, the carpenter Epeius, most of the Ithacans, a few of Diomedes' Argives and myself had been doing for the past month, "is about the only way we'll be able to get into Troy. We have to make them believe that we've given up and gone home, leaving this horse to placate Athena, who I 'insulted' after stealing the Palladium." There was general amusement among the kings. It was well known that Pallas Athena could never be insulted by Odysseus and his schemes – he was one of her favourites. As the laughter died down, my cousin continued. "We will, in fact, have our ships hidden behind Tenedos. There will be thirty men within the horse, ready to open the Skaian Gate when the Trojans bring it into the city. A signal will be lit..."

"We are all very aware that you feel that most people are below your level of intelligence," interrupted Agamemnon. "But the slightest whisper of your name will spread doubt among the Trojans and they'll burn it to the ground. They're not _that _stupid." Odysseus grinned in reply.

"That," he began, gesturing to me, "is where Sinon comes in. He'll pretend to be the cousin of some other king and will go on about how he was left as a sacrifice and now despises all the kings, and hates me with a particularly strong passion."

"I thought he _did_ hate you," muttered Menelaus. I blinked and stared at him.

"Whatever gave you that impression?" I innocently inquired. Diomedes began to cough violently, in an attempt to disguise his laughter. Odysseus rolled his eyes and continued.

"He'll go on about that for as long as necessary, maybe throwing in that problem I had with Palamedes just to stir up more ill-feeling towards me. Hopefully by then, the Trojans will have accepted that the horse is not a trick and let us in. At dark, Sinon will light a beacon and let those in the horse out. They'll kill the guards and open the gate." He looked around, grinning from ear to ear, waiting for a response.

Old Nestor stood up. "I congratulate you, Odysseus. It's a superb plan, but there's one major flaw."

"Oh? And that is?"

"You and Sinon look very similar." He had a point. Most of the kings, excepting Diomedes, had confused me for Odysseus at least once. In fact, our similarity had caused severe problems when I had stolen something from Icarius, the brother of the king of Sparta. He had mistaken me for Odysseus and my cousin had not been at all happy about it. How was I to know he had fallen madly in love with the man's daughter? Fortunately, Tyndareus had been able to sort things out and Odysseus married his beloved Penelope. Unfortunately, he never forgave me, so, before the council, when he explained what he wanted me to do I was convinced that it was revenge.

"He's thought of that," I muttered grimly, in reply to the Pylian king.

"Sinon needs to cut as pitiable a figure as possible, so that they won't feel it necessary to look at his face, so he'll be eating and drinking as little as possible." This, I had to make a joke of.

"Are you denying me alcohol?" I asked, putting on a horrified expression. There was no laughter. Odysseus ruined the effect by merely nodding.

"Sleep deprivation will add to the whole image as well. Those extra hours up should give him plenty of time to perfect his accent."

Depressingly enough, he was right. By the time I looked miserable enough to pass for an escaped prisoner, not only did I look nothing like Odysseus, but also I couldn't throw off the Argive accent I had spent days learning how to imitate. It had come as no surprise to anyone that I chose to call myself Diomedes' cousin. It only added to Odysseus' treachery if he brought about the downfall of his friend's relative.

* * *

Twenty-nine of the thirty men chosen to go in the horse are now climbing in, taking their last look at the outside world for at least a day. The tents have been taken down, and Odysseus is issuing his final commands to his Ithacans, who will be following Eurylochus, his second-in-command for the time being. His men embark the twelve ships of the Ithacan fleet and Odysseus turns towards me. His face is pale, his smile, sheepish, and there is a glint of fear in his usually over-confident eyes.

"Well," he says, for once at a loss for words. "You look shit, Sinon"

"Worse than you when you went to get the Palladium?" He nods and sighs heavily.

"I hope this all works. If it doesn't..."

"We're all dead men. I know."

"If it doesn't I won't see my wife and son again. Or my parents. Or Ithaca." It's strange how much he loves his little island. It's covered in rocks, and is somewhat – no, very – penurious, but he adores it. True enough, while he's there he complains about it constantly, but when he's away, he gets homesick. And when it comes to Penelope and Telemachus, it takes a lot to get him out of his misery. I need to make a quick joke to prevent any moping.

"We'll still be together, causing mayhem in the Kingdom of Hades."

"I don't know if I could stand that. Not just stuck with you in life, but in death too." We both laugh, although neither of us finds it particularly funny. Odysseus sighs again and clasps my shoulder tightly. "May Hermes give you a liar's golden tongue. You'll need it." He lets go and walks towards the horse, stops, and then turns back. "And Sinon...good luck."

I watch him as he climbs up the rope ladder into the horse's belly. He doesn't turn back. The ladder is pulled up behind him and the hidden trapdoor is shut. On the sea, the Grecian fleet are setting off. I watch the ships disappear into the horizon, and before I know it, I am alone. Alone until the morning, when the Trojans will find me.


	2. Persuading

**Second chapter - hurrah! It's quite long, but there was a lot to put in. Third and final chapter should be up soonish, but if I get reviews it'll be up sooner (hint hint). So when you're done reading this chapter, hit that buttin at the bottom and write me a lovely review. Or flame me...I really couldn't give a damn. Constructive criticism is best, though.**

They literally trip over me. Two Trojan soldiers step back to get a better look at the magnificent offering and one of the fools trips over me and disturbs the first proper night's sleep I've had in a fortnight. It had been cold though, under the stars with no watch fires nearby. Though I have to say, the disguise is one even Odysseus would be proud of. Like he so eloquently said the day before, I look shit. But now is the time to start the act – exit Sinon, Odysseus' cousin; enter Sinon the Argive.

I grovel in the dust at their feet. "Spare me," I moan, or rather croak – gods, my throat's dry! "Please, I beg you."

They say nothing, and I don't dare look up to see their expressions, but I imagine that they look somewhat surprised. One of them grabs me and pulls me to my feet. He lets go, but my legs buckle and I fall back down to the ground. Once again, he pulls me up, but this time, he also supports my weight. He speaks to his companion in Luuvian, which I understand perfectly, though it is an idea to appear confused.

"We should take him to Priam," he says. "He might know what this," he indicates the horse, "is for." He switches languages, now speaking in thickly accented Greek, which is less understandable than his Luuvian. "What is the horse for?" he asks me. I begin to hoarsely babble out my well-rehearsed story, in the fashion of a terrified man. At the end he nods.

"Very well. We'll take you to our king, and then you can tell him all of that."

"Bind his hands," his companion hisses in Luuvian. "How do we know if he speaks the truth?" I swiftly come to the conclusion that this is a man of reasonable sense, although slightly paranoid. The first looks at him incredulously, but then shrugs and, lacking any rope, undoes his belt and with it, binds my hands behind my back. One of them walks behind me, pushing me forwards, the other keeps a tight hold on my arm, keeping me upright and at the same time, dragging me to the king of Troy.

* * *

Priam looks me over, briefly, but never so much as glances at my face. I imagine that my body looks piteous enough. He doesn't want to see any further pain that may be reflected in my eyes. Pallas Athena, is my cousin ever wrong?

"Who, exactly, are you?" he asks. A simple enough question, so I respond with a simple enough answer. Well...not quite.

"My name's Sinon. I'm a cousin of Diomedes. I was a nobleman, well respected back home in Argos, and now look at me! If it hadn't been for that Ithacan bastard..."

"You mean Odysseus?"

"Who else? If it hadn't been for the Ithacan fox – unless of course the rumours are true," these rumours being the ones that Odysseus was not Laertes' son, but Sisyphus' – something my cousin does not like discussing, "I wouldn't have been left here to starve to death while everyone else went home." And that told Priam that what he had hoped was true – of a sort.

"They've gone home? Why?"

"It was the will of the gods. The fox...well, by now you'll have realised that your Palladium is missing. He stole it – insulted the goddess who has always championed him and Athena made it known to us that if we Greeks didn't return home and make proper sacrifices we would never conquer your great city. She also insisted that we build that horse," I indicate it with my head, my hands still bound tightly behind my back, "to replace the Palladium."

"Couldn't they just have returned the Palladium?" asks one of Priam's sons. Which one? He has a face not unlike a horse's...Deiphobos, that's the name. He'd married Helen against her wishes after Paris had died.

"Not after that bastard laid his thieving hands on it!" Deiphobos flushes.

"Of...of course," he stammers. "Carry on, Sinon." Naturally, I comply.

"We began building the horse, but then we heard tell of a prophecy. It said if it ever the horse ever passed through the Skaian Gate Troy would be indestructible, so Odysseus suggested that we make it too big to pass through. We already know that your walls can't be destroyed – I mean, they were built by the gods..."

Priam looked delighted by this news. "We'll order men to pull down the wall above the Skaian Gate," he shouts with glee. Unfortunately, not all the Trojans are of a like mind.

"It's a trick," a man behind the king states. "Sire, don't you think that this is all just a little _too_ convenient. Why was Sinon left here in the first place, for a start? And, by all the gods, the thing has wheels!"

"That's a fair point, Laocoon," pipes up Deiphobos. "Why does it have wheels?"

Shit. Of all the questions! Only one answer to try... "The gods wanted us to make something of an effort." Priam and Deiphobos look convinced, but this Laocoon is anything but.

"And why were you left here?" he asks, coldly.

I grimace. I had been hoping to get away with not having to tell this particular story – bad enough that I had needed to imply that I believed Odysseus to be the illegitimate son of Sisyphus (although it would explain a lot), but to add further insult to his name! But Laocoon is glaring suspiciously at me, so I hurriedly begin.

"You all know about Odysseus' feigned madness, and how it was revealed by Palamedes of Nauplia?" There is a general murmur of assent. "Well, the fox never forgave Palamedes. See, the Nauplian made a dangerous enemy by forcing Odysseus to join the war. The Ithacan can wait a lifetime for vengeance, but he only had to wait eight years to get back at Palamedes. One night, he captured a Trojan prisoner. This man told the kings that Palamedes had been passing information to you, King Priam. Agamemnon, persuaded by Odysseus, took the man's word to be true and ordered Palamedes' execution.

"Now, I had guessed that Odysseus was behind that, and I guessed right. I confronted the Ithacan and he made be swear, on pain of death, not to breathe a word. And I didn't – not until I realised that he was plotting my downfall, too.

"There was an ill wind before we prepared to sail home. The prophet Calchas came forward and told us that the gods were demanding a sacrifice before they would allow us to sail home. He named me as the victim. I realised at once that Odysseus was using the weather as an excuse to be rid of me, that he had probably bribed Calchas to offer me as a sacrifice. Naturally, I told all of the kings what had happened, but none of them believed me – not even my own cousin! Even Diomedes, who I had played with as a child took the Ithacan's side against mine!

"There was nothing I could do. I was put under guard and began to despair for my life, but I was more fortunate than I could have ever dreamed. The man guarding me had heard of what I had said, and he believed me! In the dead of night, he allowed me to escape. What became of him, I don't know. All I k now is that the wind changed and the fleet sailed back to Greece, apparently forgetting about me."

Laocoon continues to glare at me. "For an ill man, you are surprisingly eloquent," he says, dryly.

I'm half tempted to reply in the same dry manner, saying _it runs in the family_. But instead, I merely answer with, "The gods wished that my story be heard," and leave it there. But he still doesn't believe me. He picks up a spear and hurls it at the horse. The sound it makes is certainly not solid.

"Why is it hollow, Sinon?" I shrug.

"I didn't make it. Maybe there wasn't enough wood?"

Laocoon turns back to Priam. "Sire, I still believe that this is a trick. He is too well-rehearsed, and there is something distinctly familiar about him..."

Shit.

Priam shakes his head. "You're wrong. The horse cannot be a trick. Sinon speaks the truth." He turns to his son. "Deiphobos, order men to destroy the wall above the Skaian Gate so that we can bring the horse into the city, and then have it pulled into the courtyard of the temple of Athena." Deiphobos runs off eagerly, barking out orders to Trojan men as he goes. All of a sudden, he stops and stares at the beach.

Two young boys are staring at the waves; a sea-serpent is swimming towards them. People scream, shouting at the boys to run, but they do not move – they are frozen with fear. Laocoon gives a strangled cry of anguish.

"My sons!" He rushes onto the shore and grabs them both by the hands, but he is too late. The serpent is upon all three of them, its slimy body twisting around them, its huge jaws widening. When the creature swims away, there are no remains.

"Shit," I mutter. "That was...unexpected, to say the least."

Priam is pale and silent for a moment, and then he gives a shout. "It was the will of the gods! Laocoon dared to doubt the horse, and he and his were struck down. Let the artefact be brought into the city!" The Trojans cheer, someone finally unbinds my hands and I am dragged into a crowd of overly joyous people.

"Wait!" a voice cries out. The crowd ceases its cheering and comes to a halt. A beautiful woman steps forward and places her hand on Priam's arm. So this is Helen!

"Please allow be to try something. We want to be sure that it isn't a trick."

"Helen," Priam says, gently. "You saw what happened to Laocoon. I would not risk _your_ life as well, but if that is what you want..." He can deny her nothing, like all the other men she's met. She walks forwards and stands before the horse.

"Menelaus!" she shouts. "Do you hear me, my husband?"

No reply.

Her voice changes to sound like...her sister?

"Agamemnon! Are you there?"

No reply – and no wonder, he is with the fleet.

The next voice she uses is all too familiar.

"Odysseus, my heart! Answer me!"

Again, there is no reply, but I can't imagine the agony this is putting my cousin through. To hear a voice that, for ten years, he's only heard in dreams, and to have to refrain from answering!

Helen calls to each of the kings and princes in the voices of their wives, and my heart is in my mouth each time she opens hers. But there is never a reply. Thank all the gods! Having finished, she sighs heavily. "Well," she says. "There was no harm in trying." Once again the cheering begins, and I am dragged back into the crowd.

* * *

There has been much feasting. I have eaten plenty, but drunk only enough to steady my nerves (admittedly, this is quite a lot, but a fair amount less than usual.) No one noticed when I left. Now I am sat underneath the horse, waiting for nightfall, when I can release the men within and light the signal fire. 


	3. Regret

**All hail yours truly, I've actually completed a story! Considering I have an extremely short attention span, this is a tremendous feat as I didn't actually have to do it. I do realise that it's quite a bit shorter than the other two chapters, but this was actually all I could think of that would make sense coming out of the mouth of someone who has just witnessed the worst massacre he's ever seen. If you like it, review and boost my self-esteem, and if you don't, review and tell me why. _Wine Dark Sea_**

And now it's all over. Finished. Ten years of blood, sweat and tears finally at an end. We've been waiting a decade for this moment, and now that it's come, I don't know if this is the price to pay for victory. Can I live with this on my conscience for the rest of my life? I came to Troy hoping to earn undying fame, and I have it. I will live forever on the lips of men, as a liar, a cheat, a cruel, sly man who watched one of the finest cities on Earth fall into the dust, as the man who persuaded the Trojans to bring the horse into their city. I don't think I would care if it hadn't been for the slaughter. On the battlefield, you don't seem to think about it. All the people you fight are nameless, faceless warriors who you never knew and never will know, but in their own homes, they are real people. You can't put it out of your mind that these men are like you. They have wives, sweethearts, children, parents, siblings. And now they're dead. Almost all of them are in the Kingdom of Hades, be they old men or babies. But I don't want to think about the carnage. I don't ever want to remember that night again.

The women of Troy – those that didn't take their own lives, weren't slaughtered or burnt alive in their own houses – are on the beach, preparing to sail to a new land. The air is filled with the sounds of their mourning. I don't want to look at them. Out of sight, out of mind...

Instead, I look out across the sea, as I have done many times before. When I looked across the waves, I would imagine myself coming home, loaded with treasures. I would walk from the port and enter my father's house. He would see how well I had done, would have heard of my exploits already, and would praise me as being the very best of his sons and stop complaining about how similar I am to by grandfather. This was my dream, the one that kept me fighting. Odysseus didn't dream of fame and wealth. He dreamt of Penelope, Telemachus, his father, Laertes and his mother, Anticlea, and of Ithaca. He didn't want to die without being able to see the things most precious to him first. That was one of the few things so different about the two of us. I thirsted for fame, wanted only to be acknowledged, and he just wanted to be left in peace with those he loved.

* * *

The Ithacans are ready to sail. They've been ready for days, but they still didn't leave. I'm not going with them, which is a pity. There's no better place to wind up my cousin than on a ship, but that's not the reason Odysseus won't let me come. Every prophecy about Troy was true, so now he's worried that the ones about him will be. That was his main excuse for trying to dodge coming. Every oracle he questioned said the same thing: 'If you go to Troy, you will not see home for twenty years. You will return alone, unrecognised and in rags.'

"If I'm not going to get home for another ten years, Sinon, I want someone to tell Penelope what happened here. Would you do it? She'd take your word for it, even though you are a damned liar. Tell her I love her, and will love her till the end of time."

I hope for his sake that the oracles are wrong this time. Ten years almost killed him, so imagine what another ten would do! I agreed, of course. I'll inform Cousin Penelope, if Odysseus doesn't get there first.

His twelve, red-cheeked ships are now sailing away from the city that we destroyed and heading home. That night dispelled our many petty arguments and defined our differences. I remain on the beach, watching his fleet – small in comparison to those of richer kings disappear over the horizon – chasing the chariot of the sun into the west. "Follow the sunset, cousin," I whisper. "Let it be a safe and speedy return."


End file.
